Striker's Thorn
by Gatekat
Summary: Knights of Light, Striker/Thorn. Just a bit of smut to get used to the boys.


**Fandom**: Transformers IDW  
><strong>Author<strong>: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Striker/Thorn  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17 mech/mech  
><strong>Codes<strong>: AU, Slash, Sticky, PWP  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Just a bit of smut to get used to the boys.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal. com/290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: Striker is Drift/Wing's first creation in _Hunters from the Light_, and this story is set in the same 'verse, but well after that story ends.  
>Thorn is the creation of (furaffinity .netuser/labrum)/(switchxtrick .deviantart .com)  
>Striker: img62 .imageshack .usimg62/7862/strikerrecolor .png  
>Thorn: switchxtrick .deviantart .comart/Thorn-275112261  
>Together: img341 .imageshack .usimg341/3351/ububu .png

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><p><strong>Striker's Thorn<br>**

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><p>Elaborate black and gold wings fluttered in anticipation as he snuck up on his lover in the mech's washracks. Striker was a bit fanatic on keeping his white and red finish up, more than the average Knight, and not just because of youthful vanity or pride.<p>

It helped the red opticked mech get what he wanted.

Striker had his back to the door, all his attention on making sure his finish was immaculate. His elegant wings fluttered slightly, spreading and flexing to make sure the cleanser got into all the crevices and along all the smooth planes. The armor plating along his back flared out, cleanser getting under and around them. Striker shifted position, unknowingly showing off for the mech creeping up behind him.

The low, appreciative humble of Thorn's engine gave the black mech away, but he hardly cared. He was close enough to slip slender fingers under the flared armor and he pressed against Striker's back and kissed his neck.

Striker twitched in surprise, hearing Thorn's engine behind him unexpectedly, then twitched again as fingers slipped under his armor. When Thorn pressed up against him, Striker's surprised expression flowed into an easy smirk, humming at the kiss against his neck. Turning his helm, his ruby optics glinted brightly at his lover. "Hello," the red and white jet purred.

"Hello yourself," Thorn rumbled, capturing those lips for a kiss. "Aiming for a threesome tonight, or is this just for me?"

Striker chuckled into the kiss. "Maybe," he teased. "I'm sure you can convince me to keep this a private show, just you and me."

"I usually can," he purred, his hands sliding along gleaming white to work into spread white and red wings, teasing all the complex articulation joints.

The red and white jet leaned into those hands, flaring his wings, providing more places to touch. "Prove it," he purred, tilting his helm to capture Thorn's lips. Those lips curled into a smirk under the kiss as Thorn's hands found control surfaces to manipulate and stroke.

"I think when I'm good and done with your wings, I'm going to give your spike such a workout with my mouth that you'll let me take you against the wall."

"I'm looking forward to that." Red optics glowed with anticipation as Striker fanned his wings into Thorn's hands, a deep purr rising from his throat. Slender, nimble claws slid into gasps in the wing armor to caress the sensitive protoform and sea of connectors between armor and protoform.

Striker's body arched into Thorn's hands, undulating gracefully. A deep moan rose from his vocalizer as he leaned into his lover's touch, opening his neck, helm and upper back to questing lips and a glossa that knew his every hot spot.

With a smile Thorn extended his field and pushed into his lover, exciting internal circuitry directly.

Striker's field was a hot pulse of _lust-want-desire_ against Thorn's. The red and white jet could not keep still, moving as sinuously as a mech could. Charge was building, starting to dance along his circuits, rising toward an overload.

"So hot," Thorn moaned, his engine vibrating them both. "So beautiful. In the sky and in pleasure."

"Love it when you talk like that," Striker murmured, pressing himself into Thorn's hands. The charge was rapidly building, about to break, and neither of them were going to do anything about it.

"I know," Thorn shivered as arcs of electricity jumped between their frames. "So sleek, so fast, as agile as your creator and far more enticing."

Red and white wings went stiff, trembling from tips to bases as the body to which they were attached reached overload. Striker's body went stiff, helm thrown back, letting out a howl of release that Thorn soaked in, relishing his ability to drive his younger lover to such a state so easily.

"So beautiful," Thorn whispered as his hands slid from wings, down Striker's quivering frame to cup the spike cover.

The young jet's hips shifted, pressing into Thorn's hand. His spike cover popped open, his spike pressurizing out of its housing, glossy with lubricant. Striker wobbled ever so slightly, shifting his stance to brace himself, his field flaring with _eagerness-desire_.

"Love how much you desire," Thorn breathed against Striker's neck, his hand closing around the quickly hardening spike, stroking it lazily to full size.

Striker chuckled throatily, leaning his helm back to nip at Thorn's jaw. His back was pressed against his dark lover's chassis, every twitch of the red-and-white's hips stroking his armor over Thorn's. Thorn wasn't the only one who knew how to draw a quick rise out of a mech.

A low moan rose from Thorn's vocalizer as he reluctantly pulled away enough to draw Striker around to face him, catching the shorter mech's mouth in a fiery kiss while his fingers teased along the hard length between them.

Striker moaned into the kiss, his own nimble black hands sneaking around to catch hold of Thorn's own wings, sliding over the smooth surfaces and dipping into the joints and seams. He leaned his hips into Thorn's hand, wanting more.

With a glimmer in ruby red optics Thorn knelt smoothly and transitioned the tip of the spike from his fingers to his glossa.

Striker braced his back against the wall, wings quivering and field pulsing with anticipation. His own bright red optics watched his dark-plated lover, Striker's hands coming to rest lightly on the black helm. Thorn enjoyed playing, sometimes too much, but the processor blowing overloads were always well worth the frustration leading up to it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Thorn traced his glossa around the tip, darting inward to tease the opening when his lip plates kissed the tip.

Striker's hips rolled to thrust lightly into that hot mouth, only to find Thorn's hands holding him firmly in place. The red and white jet's wings drooped slightly, briefly, before hitching up high again, practically vibrating. Striker's black fingers glided over the planes and seams of Thorn's helm, seeking out all the hot spots. The glowing red markings on his forehelm. The elegant golden audio horns. When he caressed the line between black helm and silver faceplate, Thorn trembled and took Striker's spike deeper into his mouth.

The young jet purred, his expression somewhere between a smirk and a grin as light fingertips traced those sensitive places, exploring every inch for the most sensitive. A moan escaped him, his hips again attempting to thrust forward and failing. Thorn was determinedly restricting his attention to the head, lavishing the sensor rich area with his glossa and a light sucking.

Striker let out a whine, trying to urge Thorn to take more of his spike. The red and white jet's hips were twitching, trying to thrust forward, but Thorn's strong hands were holding him still.

The taller black mech purred and gave his lover a bit more of what he wanted, enveloping the entire head and the shaft just beyond in his mouth, sucking and swirling his glossa around to entice more moans and whines.

Another whine escaped Striker, the red and white jet leaning forward for better access to the black Knight's upper back and shoulder. Elegant bright wings were twitching and flaring, Striker's field throbbing with _need_. The additional touches, the strokes along wing joins and Great Sword, drew several ragged moans from Thorn.

The black Knight trembled, his own arousal becoming painful as he continued to hold off, wanting to drive his lover to the brink ... to force those nonsensical pleas from his vocalizer.

Striker made a sound that might have been words, but they were too garbled to make out. His fingers flirted with the Great Sword's attachment point, stroking along the edges of the ancient blade. The jet moaned, the sound trailing into a keen of need, of _want_.

It was all Thorn needed, not that he could have much taken much more. He relaxed his intake and pressed his helm forward, taking the spike all the way to the housing with an ease of practice and comfort in performing the act.

The result was a deep moan and a shiver of Striker's whole body. Striker rolled his hips gently into Thorn's mouth, leaning down to reach more sensitive points on Thorn's back and wings. Slender black fingers worked into black wing joins, drawing a scalding flare of _please-need_ from Thorn as he drew his helm back and pushed into the touch.

Striker managed a laugh between moans and soft gasps, his fingers working deeper into the joins, stroking over the mechanisms and control surfaces, ghosting over the circuitry. His humor was stolen when Thorn pressed forward again, fast and intent, then sucked as he drew away.

The chuckle turned into a gasp, Striker's hips thrusting into Thorn, the young jet's back arching. His hands tightened briefly on Thorn's wings before relaxing. Striker could feel his overload building, preparing to break over him. Thorn made every attempt to encourage it, sucking, bobbing and licking, moving a little faster with each cycle.

The charge built and built, finally breaking. Striker keened as overload crashed over him, transfluid spilling into Thorn's mouth. Striker's hips jerked once, twice, three times before the red and white jet sagged back against the wall, purring and panting heavily as his spike was gently lavished with attention to clean it.

Thorn kissed his way up Striker's chassis as he stood before reaching his lover's lips and brushing his glossa against them for admittance.

Admittance was immediately granted, Striker purring into the kiss as he tasted himself on his lover's glossa. His arms wrapped around Thorn's body, holding him close and absorbing the intense arousal in his lover's frame.

"Sated enough?" Thorn was nearly trembling in his desire to thrust deep and hard into the rarely offered valve.

Striker laughed, his ruby optics sparkling. "Have you ever known me to be fully sated after just two overloads?" The jet lifted one leg, trailing his toeplate up Thorn's shin, curling his leg around the black mech's. Striker was in a playful mood and Thorn was happy to respond.

"Never," Thorn rumbled, his spike cover sliding back to allow the sensitive length to finally pressurize. "Never left you without a valve overload either, when you let me."

Striker smirked, curling his leg around Thorn's hip, shifting so that the black mech's spike rubbed against the jet's abdominal armor. "I'm letting you now," he purred.

A soft moan escaped Thorn as he shifted his hips and grabbed Striker's, pulling the shorter jet up before sinking into the bared valve with a single thrust. He leaned forward, his face against Striker's helm as he simply enjoyed the sensation of being encased in that tight, tight valve.

Striker clung to the larger mech, bracing himself against the wall, fanning and fluttering his elegant wings. His back arched, undulating gracefully against Thorn's chassis. A deep moan rose from his vocalizer as Striker pulled his hips back, his hands holding Striker up and in the perfect position for him to drive forward.

As aroused as he was, Thorn knew he would last long, but he also knew he could satisfy his lover before his second overload sapped his strength.

Striker wrapped his arms around Thorn's neck and shoulders, bracing himself against the taller mech. His other leg wrapped around Thorn's hips, ankles hooking together behind the black mech and trusting his lover to support his weight. His hips rolled into Thorn's, taking his spike in deep. Against the side of his helm Thorn nearly keened, the need incendiary in the black jet's field and frame.

Given complete control Thorn could only take, driving his hips forward hard, _needing_ that tiny bit of extra stimulation to send him over. So close, too soon, and he couldn't care. He could only _feel_.

His vents fully open, his fans blowing hard to expel the excess heat that served to enflame his circuits with pleasure. Thorn didn't hold back his cries of pleasure-need, knowing how much Striker enjoyed being the cause.

Striker threw back his helm, moaning with each thrust, writhing against Thorn, taking his spike in deeper with each thrust. He nipped Thorn's helm, fingers slipping into handy seams, his turbines revving and vibrating against Thorn's dark armor.

It was all too much and just enough.

Thorn roared with an uncontrolled thrust of his hips, driving his spike all the way to the slightly stretchy apex of Striker's valve before a burst of transfluid erupted from the tip, drenching the tight space with electrically charged gel.

Striker's body arched, his hips pressing down against Thorn's, driving the black mech's spike in as far as it could go. Throwing back his helm, the red and white jet _howled_ his own overload, his valve clamping down on Thorn's spike. Charge danced over his plating, arcing from the tips of his flared wings, leaping off onto Thorn.

Surprise rippled into the pleasure, but this far into the grip of overload Thorn could do nothing but accept his luck and revel in the joint pleasure as he slammed forward with another burst of transfluid, his roar morphing into a keen of raw, uncontainable bliss that trembled on the edge of terror-pain in the very best way.

Striker's howl broke into static, his vocalizer on the brink of shorting out. His field flared, wrapping around the dark Knight's. Then he almost melted against the black mech, clinging to him to avoid falling as both their frames sagged.

"Wow," Thorn murmured, trembling from wingtips to pedes and leaning heavily on pinging Striker against the wall to keep them both upright. "Mmm, got anywhere to be for a while?" he asked, humming in the pleasant afterglow of cooling armor and circuits.

"Had no plans or anywhere to be," Thorn purred, pressing closer to Thorn. Clearly he'd inherited Wing's tactile nature, loving to touch and be touched. "Except wherever you are, of course." He nipped at Thorn's jaw teasingly.

"Your berth if where I plan to be until you kick me out," Thorn murmured, kissing him affectionately while he shifted his grip, encouraging Striker to stand on his pedes so they could move, and to free Thorns hands to stroke.

"Unless you have somewhere else to be, that won't be for a while," was the teasing response as Striker disentangled himself, wobbling on his pedes as they supported each other towards Striker's lush berth.


End file.
